anthem for pipe dreams
by slexenskee
Summary: Madara had been right; all the ninja in her Gennin class were stupid and foolish, and didn't know anything about war, let alone being a ninja. Most of all the unpleasantly dim-witted, incredibly popular Minato.


Tomato face, they called her.

She had round cheeks, prone to blushing a rioting shade of red, and she was a chubby little kid. Her hair was the color of cherries.

The kids thought she was funny. The first female Hokage.

They taunted her, laughed at her.

The little girl in the back from Whirlpool—where was whirlpool, anyway?—the outcast. That stupid boy Minato sat around with his cronies, with that stupid smile and that stupid laugh and Kushina _couldn't stand it._

These kids didn't know anything about the real world.

About being a ninja.

.

**a n t h e m f o r **

**p i p e d r e a m s**

**.**

"You're slipping."

Kushina whirled around in a mess of vibrant hair that whipped across pale cheeks, eyes like the sea bitter and angry.

She was twelve, and resentful about almost anything she could fully understand. To Konoha, to the people who shipped her off here, to the Academy and its entire populace, to _Minato_.

She hastily moved her grip back into its proper place on her katana, a menacing, thin metal about the width of two pubescent fingers and rivaled her in height.

"What do you want, Namikaze?" For a surprisingly short twelve-year old girl, there was such loathing that if Minato hadn't been the kind-hearted fool he was, he most certainly would have flinched.

Instead, he shrugged, a sloppy grin on his face. "Nothing, just waiting for my friends.'"

"Friends." She echoed under her breath, rolling her eyes. Kushina lowered her guard, and studied the face before her hesitantly. How could one boy be so…so… unbelievably stupid? Did he understand anything? Had he ever worked for something in his life? (that was the problem with Konoha, she mused, it was like they lived in their dreams, surrounded by thick walls that kept out the poverty and the famine and the war of the rest of the world)

She could have yelled at him, told him to get of his god damn high horse and find another place to play hide and seek. Instead, she walked swiftly back to her duffel bag, sheathed her sword and hoisted it up over her shoulder, the thing almost her weight.

"Hey—wait!" Minato blinked, making a move to help her. She looked like she was ready to split in two, nimble fingers and thin, fey limbs. How could such a formidable young kunoichi be nothing but skin and bones?

She didn't.

"You don't have to go!" He called out hesitantly, but Kushina continued on as if he hadn't heard her.

He stood like that for a while, watching the sun pick up fiery hair, tangled around her like vibrant red ocher mist.

His frown was subtle—he and Kushina had never been much of friends, even though she'd been in all his classes. He remembered her being an exceptionally chubby little kid, round in the face with little tube-like fingers, and wondered where all of it had gone.

"Minato-kun!"

Akemi shouted, and he turned around where his friends were all rounding a bend of trees.

x.x

"Have you been eating?"

Kushina scowled lazily as she dropped her mask onto the cold floor, clattering at her feet. Her eyes watched its silent gleam in the dim lighting of the room.

He was the third person to ask her that. Earlier that morning, Minato had appeared out of nowhere, that stupid smile on his face, asking if she wanted some of his bento. Obviously, she refused, but he had insisted, saying that he never saw her eating and she had been losing weight. What the hell. And then her Academy teacher, useless idiot that he was. And now him.

"Haven't felt like it." She retorted stubbornly, even as a reeling of vertigo spiked from her toes to her head.

The man in darkness tutted, as if he was unsurprised by her childish antics.

"Eat, child."

"I'm not a child!" She spat angrily. She didn't _want _to be a child. No one took them seriously, with good measure, too, seeing as though most of her age group was still playing dumb games and sleeping in their parent's beds.

"No, I suppose you're not." The man bemused, probably to please her then anything else. "But you should eat anyway, because your body is still growing and malnutrition is unbecoming for such a rising shinobi."

At this, this warped, manipulative compliment, Kushina could do nothing but reluctantly reach into her bag for a ninja bar.

"How was school today?"

There was something so mundane about those words that made Kushina cringe. She sat down on one of the cold conference chairs, bag and mask still on the floor. "What does it matter?" She snorted. "The academy is stupid."

"It happens, in times of peace."

She eyed the man warily.

Uchiha Madara was staring pensively out of the open window, looking terribly mundane. When Kushina had first met him, he had been shadowed by the wan, cooling light of the moon, eyes like pinwheels a world of their own, a malicious looking face and a black cloak. Her country crumbled around her, and his words had been so _beautiful, _so _poetic, _that even the low, enticing drone of his voice had her following in a daze.

"Have you made any friends?" He asked, pleasantly enough.

Her gray eyes narrowed, calculatingly. "Some." She answered evasively, seating herself at the table of her apartment.

Madara allowed them to lapse into silence, only the patter of the brewing storm and the thoughtful chews of Kushina's bites filled her grayscale apartment. She studied the side of his face, the wild, untamed hair and the abnormal Sharingan in his eyes.

She'd followed him here, yes, but the question still lingered;

_Who was he? _

"That's good." He nodded, looking pleased about something. "I want you to make a lot of friends."

Kushina gave him a flat, exasperated look.

It was worse when he reached over to fluff her hair. "And be a good little Academy student."

And with that, he disappeared with only the slightest noise, nimbly missing her flying knife.

"Don't call me _little_!-!" The admittedly little girl snarled, rage clouding her eyes as her knife landed in the opposite side of the wall with a loud thunk, the apartment devoid of life aside from a breathless, angered girl.

With the enigmatic ninja gone from her life once more, the girl crumpled back into her chair, confused. She was in this strange, foreign land, surrounded by immature, squabbling children who clearly didn't understand her, didn't understand the _war _going on outside their borders. She envied them as much as she was disgusted by them.

She could have been one of them, too. Could have played tag with Chouza and Inoichi in the school yard, studied after school with Shibi and Tsume, ate lunch with them, smiled with them, be _worriless _with them. Be worriless with Minato. At the thought of that stupid, insufferable blonde, Kushina simultaneously turned red and broke her shinobi bar in two. Quite a feat, considering the ration was built like a small brick.

And Kushina had never hated Madara more.

For bringing her here, to this place where she didn't belong.

x.x.

"Hey, Kushina-chan!"

Namikaze quite obviously didn't understand the meaning of 'no', as he barreled up to her the next morning. Admittedly, she hadn't outright told him to shove his face into a wall and leave her the hell alone, but generally ninja had more tact then to continuously go up to a girl that quite clearly couldn't stand your presence.

The redhead didn't even turn, continuing to stare out the window.

The storm had reached its zenith, whirling in the sky and splattering noisily against the shaking window panes. Kushina enjoyed it, the whipping wind and bitter cold. It reminded her of the hurricanes in Uzushiogakure, which took the small islands by siege every typhoon season, shaking every house to its bitter foundations. Back when the village still retained its glory, Kushina could remember the cold window panes, her mother calling her beguilingly away from the glass.

"Kushina~!" Minato chirruped, and, irritated, Kushina finally looked away.

"What do you want?" She snapped, stormy eyes narrowed.

"Nothing!" Minato said with a beaming smile, rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. It was then that she noticed his little group—which was admittedly quite a big group, as Minato was rather popular—watching expectantly behind him. "We were just wondering if you wanted to go to lunch with us today?"

She snorted. "Not a chance."

Minato pouted. "We're getting ramen!"

At the mention of her favorite food, Kushina almost contemplated joining them, if not for the company. Almost.

"I'll pass." She waved them off, returning to the window. Lightning flashed across the sky like a thousand, burning birds.

In the dim, watery reflection, Kushina caught Minato's drooping, distraught face. Oddly, it did little to stir her today.

"You sure?" He called again, at least this time sounding unsure of himself.

"I'm sure." She insisted, not bothering to even turn around.

Eventually, Minato and his friends shuffled off, leaving her to enjoy the tenebrous booming of the storm alone.

x.x

It was still storming heavily as Kushina trekked out of the Academy, out of the gates and out of _Konoha, _a weekend bag slung over her shoulders, and a rain cloak thick on her shoulders.

As usual, Madara was waiting for her just around the bend of trees, his dark, cloud-patterned cloak shifting against the shaking trees.

"Hello, Kushina-chan." He smiled.

She bristled, but swallowed it away.

Madara took the lead with long, sure strides, the young girl doubling her pace to keep up. They walked for a few moments longer, until Madara took to the trees without warning, leaving Kushina to struggle to catch up. The branches had even worse footing than the muddy ground.

"Madara," She began after a short while, looking unsurely up at the impassive man to her left. "Where are we going?"

He gave her a slight, side-long glance. Kushina shivered at the dark, abnormal Sharingan. "Training trip."

At the thought of training, the thought of _strength _and power, Kushina perked up immediately, spirits rising as the glimmer in her eyes did. "Really? Where?"

At this, he gave her a crooked, half-smirk. "Kirigakure."


End file.
